


cruelty is in kindness

by Take_Me_To_My_Fragile_Dreams



Series: kintsugi [11]
Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Diavolo is concerned, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mammon is flustered, That's it, that's the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:02:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25761058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Take_Me_To_My_Fragile_Dreams/pseuds/Take_Me_To_My_Fragile_Dreams
Summary: “I came here to speak to you. Please, don’t go on my account.”They’d both be scolded for that. A prince shouldn’t lower himself to begging for anyone, let alone Mammon.(aka a request for diamammon's first kiss)
Relationships: Diavolo/Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Mammon/Briar
Series: kintsugi [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1669783
Comments: 7
Kudos: 80





	cruelty is in kindness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rebsrebsrebsrebs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebsrebsrebsrebs/gifts).



> hi welcome to my new hell

“He doesn’t mean it, you know.”

Mammon startles. He whirls away from the elaborate statue before him to face the entrance to the gallery he’s taken up residence inside. Diavolo stands just inside the room, bathed in the gentle moonlight of the skylight above.

“I wasn’t doin’ anythin’!”

A small smile curls Diavolo’s lips. He steps further into the room to stand by Mammon’s side. “I never said you were.”

Mammon shifts anxiously. His eyes flick back to the door, searching for the shadow that is his older brother. Lucifer is hardly ever far behind Diavolo and he’s the last person he wants to see right now. He had gone off on his own for a reason, after all.

“Lucifer is helping Barbatos with the kitchen. He won’t be interrupting us.”

That of course, has him wondering just what it is that Diavolo thinks he would be _interrupting_ in the first place.

“Not like I care,” Mammon says sullenly. His arms hug his middle as he turns back to the statue. It’s a monstrous thing of twisting limbs and too many eyes. Some sort of historical testament to a moment Satan could probably rattle off at a moment’s notice.

It’s one of a kind but he doesn’t feel the urge to steal it. He hasn’t felt that panicked press since his pacts had been lifted and he’d been able to keep his funds for once.

“I’m surprised you’re not with Briar. You two are usually inseparable.”

“Simeon asked them to help go over the costumes with Levi.” He shrugs and pretends that he doesn’t want to sneak into their room and curl up in the safety of their arms. He’s not sleeping in the same room as Lucifer. He’ll sleep in the hall if he has to.

He can feel Diavolo’s eyes on him as he picks at one of his jacket sleeves. Mammon doesn’t look back.

“You’re uncomfortable.” The discontent in Diavolo’s voice is enough to turn his head. He looks lonely as he stares up at the statue. Like a treasure locked away for its value. “Does my presence seem so revolting?”

Mammon’s mouth drops open. “What the—what are ya on about?!”

 _Stupid_.

Lucifer would be at his throat if he were around to hear him talking so boldly to their prince.

He swallows his trepidation. “I’m upset but not at you, don’t get it twisted! It’s not that you’re gross, I’m just—” _used to being scolded whenever you’re around._

“Just?”

“It’s nothin’, don’t worry about it. I can leave ya alone—”

He freezes when a warm hand catches his wrist. Mammon is used to being the warm one amongst his brothers. He’s always the furnace, always being used for heat by Levi and Asmo especially. Diavolo takes that heat and multiplies it tenfold. His skin is practically scorching even with the barrier of Mammon’s jacket between their skin.

“I came here to speak to you. Please, don’t go on my account.”

They’d both be scolded for that. A prince shouldn’t lower himself to begging for anyone, let alone _Mammon_.

“Okay.” His shoulders slump as he turns back around. “What did ya want to talk about?”

“I heard what you said to Lucifer earlier.”

Immediately, his guard is up. He shoves his hands into his jacket pockets and scowls at the floor. Great, another lecture.

“So you’re here to yell at me.”

“No,” Diavolo sounds startled. “you had valid points. I just wanted to ensure you were alright. I know Lucifer can be hardheaded when it comes to his family.”

It’s not what Mammon is expecting.

His eyes lift, high, higher until he meets Diavolo’s earnest gaze. He’s tall, taller than Lucifer and a mere inch below Beel. Mammon’s fingers twitch when he remembers Diavolo cutting a path through the carnival crowds with his bulk.

“…You said he doesn’t mean it.” He’d bypassed the words earlier, but now he takes them in. “I think he does.”

“He loves you—”

“You can love someone and still hate them,” he says bitterly. “just ask Briar.”

It’s a low blow to drag their human’s horrible past into the light but he’s feeling particularly awful as it is.

“Mammon, he doesn’t hate you.” A hand falls on his shoulder; squeezes. “He _doesn’t_. You know you’re his favorite.”

“Yeah, well. He’s real good at showin’ it.”

He’s bitter and aware that he’s doing a poor job at hiding it. The sting of Lucifer’s insults is still too fresh. He’s gotten used to kindness from his brothers. They’ve been much more of a family with Briar’s help and Mammon has allowed himself to let his guard down.

Lucifer has been so nice to him lately; the sudden turn is painful. A healing wound torn open all over again. 

“He will realize the error of his ways. He always does.”

Mammon doesn’t say anything.

A thumb brushes against his cheek and trails a blazing line across his skin. His eyes are wide as Diavolo smiles sadly.

“I know I’m not the one you need to hear this from, little bird, but I hope I’ve helped assuage some of your pain.”

“You…” He’s at a loss for words. He doesn’t know what to do with the emotion in Diavolo’s eyes, or the earnest care on his face. He hadn’t known what to do with Diavolo’s laughter and smiles at the carnival either.

“What do ya want from me?”

If Diavolo is surprised by the question, he doesn’t show it. He rocks his weight back onto his heels and considers it. “Is it not enough to want you to be alright? I’ve known you all for centuries, I care for your wellbeing.”

It’s an unsatisfying answer.

He smiles knowingly. “Ah, that’s not enough, is it?”

Mammon shakes his head.

“Perhaps it’s reminded me of the joy of family to see what Briar has managed to do with all of you. Perhaps it’s made me lonely, seeing all of you together and happy while I watch from the side lines. And,” he holds a hand out in offering. Slowly, Mammon slides his hand out of his pocket and into Diavolo’s. He earns a smile that has something twisting in Mammon’s stomach in an almost pleasant way. “perhaps I’ve seen you shine lately; in a way you’ve never done before. Happiness looks good on you.”

He doesn’t know what to do with the knowledge that Diavolo has been watching him since his Fall. He doesn’t know what to do with any of it.

Mammon’s cheeks flush.

“It’s Briar’s fault,” he says gruffly. “and yours for bringin’ them here.”

“I’m glad I did. They’ve had a wonderful effect on everyone.”

He’s not wrong.

“…thanks.” He shifts nervously, painfully aware of the blazing heat of Diavolo’s palm against his own. “For bringin’ them. For checkin’ up on me.”

Diavolo’s thumb strokes the back of his hand. “I would do this and more if you would let me.”

Mammon’s hand is raised before he can blink. Diavolo’s lips brush against his knuckles and put a screeching halt to any thoughts in his head. He gapes at him soundlessly as his face burns.

Diavolo smiles wide and bright. It’s a completely unfair expression.

“I want to make your stay here comfortable. Please, come to me if you need anything.”

His hand begins to slip away from Mammon’s. He steps back and turns to go. Every step sounds too loud, like the ticking of the clock that counts down the moments remaining in whatever fantasy world Mammon has found himself inside.

Is this another one of Levi’s games?

“Thank you,” he says again, before Diavolo can disappear.

He clutches at his hand, where his prince’s warmth remains.

If it’s a game it’s certainly a cruel one.

**Author's Note:**

> pls scream with me about these two
> 
> find me on tumblr @ apassintohell


End file.
